


it's the beautiful, ugly ghosts of past that make the beloved, beloved

by ninanna



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance, aokiseweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 15:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1784551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninanna/pseuds/ninanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise Ryouta reminisces of past and present, while simultaneously managing to cause a small scale disaster out of making toast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's the beautiful, ugly ghosts of past that make the beloved, beloved

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a sequel for Glad You Came, but can be read and is meaningful standalone as well. Background is basically: Kise Ryouta, model, Aomine Daiki, NBA player; they've been living in New York; established and publicly known relationship.
> 
> I swear to God I don't have a thing for those signs of devil on Aomine's forehead but in my headcanon Kise kind of does.
> 
> (Written for aokiseweek, day #7: "AUs/Anything")

His fingertips trace the tiny rifts on his lover's forehead; the man is in deep sleep, his whole face is graced with serenity, a rare and profoundly beautiful sight, yet the two small wrinkles stubbornly refuse to disappear.

 

He is not even thirty yet and he has wrinkles.

 

This does not cause any grief or dissatisfaction in Kise though, _oh no_ , he is definitely pleased, and more than anything else, he is amused; his fingertips tenderly play with the obstinate legacies of his lover's almost perpetual scowl. 

 

Years ago, when they first met at middle school, when he first saw this man, a boy then just his age, with the brightest and cockiest grin in the world, jumping so high like a creature not simply human but between human and divine, his deep blue eyes glinting with sheer joy and vivid life continuously... If somebody said then that this very boy would grow into a man who would have wrinkles before reaching thirty, merely out of grimacing so much, Kise would laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea till his stomach hurt.

 

Then years ago, when they faced each other again on the court in high school for the first time, and he saw rare flickers of excitement on his friend's face only to be extinguished completely and returned to his characteristic melange of indifference and disdain at the end; the only remaining courtesy of the boy inside, the sole silver lining, being a solemn look in his azure eyes of desperate loneliness and agonising hurt... If somebody said then that this very youngster would grow into a man who would peacefully sleep beside him, his chest bare and adorned with carvings of Kise's very own teeth, markings of lust born out of mutual yearning and passion... Kise would laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea till his stomach hurt.

 

So perhaps it cancels out. Or rather, it compliments and completes. Aomine with him now is a sum of all those experiences and more, good ones and bad ones, happy ones and sad ones, nice ones and wicked ones, they all converge and bring about this wondrous being called Aomine Daiki and he does not, he _cannot_ imagine himself adoring anyone else more.

 

He gives a chaste kiss of gratitude (to Aomine? To any and all gods who have brought Aomine to him and him to Aomine? To ever scheming Fate that allowed them the chance to be?) on the two stubborn wrinkles on his lover's deliciously dark skin before unwrapping himself carefully from the arms loosely hanging around his waist and slipping out of the bed.

 

He often wakes up before Aomine but he rarely cooks breakfast. They are both extremely busy and he is often out of the door before the power forward even wakes up. There is an additional reason to his packed schedule that he does not cook: he cannot cook.

 

He remembers how disappointed he was when they first moved in and the idea of cooking for Aomine seemed quite alluring to him then so he tried and failed miserably and thoroughly. He had thought that it would be easy to him, that it would come naturally because he had this amazing ability to imitate any physical movement he saw once, but it turns on cooking was less about chopping perfectly and quickly or skilfully stirring a pot. There is also the fact that he is constantly impatient, which turns out to be a very big disadvantage in culinary arts. He is incredibly hardworking and remarkably stubborn though, so if he had stuck around with it, he would have probably reached a decent level in his culinary abilities. The problem, or honestly the blessing, has been that Aomine had chipped in instead. It seemed to be almost on a whim too (and God, just how thankful the blond has been for that particular whim); Aomine had looked at the fish which Kise made, somehow, by some miracle of the blond's uncanny hands, it was both burnt _and_ raw inside. He had commented then nonchalantly,

 

“ _You know... I could try it. Cooking. I have more time and I bet I'd be better at it._ ”

 

Kise had snorted at the idea upon hearing, but it turned out Aomine could actually cook. The first time –that very night of the _fish incident_ – Aomine cooked a decent dish of fried rice with vegetables and meat without even knowing how to. He simply looked at one recipe Kise had found online half-heartedly and went ahead with it. He was naturally talented, it seemed, surely he was no grand chef nor did he cook often, but whenever he did, Kise felt blessed – even more so when he commented on the food positively and it would always cause a simultaneous shade of pink on Aomine's cheeks as well as a deceptively indifferent shrug. The tan male loved being commended on all things loving and domestic but preferred to keep it hidden, Kise played along.

 

All in all, perhaps he could not cook, but he could brew tea. Kise Ryouta could brew some delightful cup of tea.

 

So he starts brewing tea that particular morning and hopes that he will be successful in creating a measly breakfast of toast and omelette at least, with green tea it will be a complete menu, a definitely lovely instance of fusion. Yes, that is enough for it to be 'fusion food' – Kise is sure and he is also sure that Aomine will scoff and perhaps mock a little but he will adorn that particularly lovely blush anyway. Kise will play along then too.

 

He absent-mindedly scrolls through his email inbox on his ipad, humming to an old song of an idol they both adore (Kise for her cheerful voice and Aomine for her notable bosom – Kise prefers to ignore that last part), taking in the soothing scent of the green tea as he waits for toasts to be ready.

 

Interestingly or rather not-so-interestingly, everyone around them assumes Kise is the one who would (or at least could) cook. When it is first mentioned in a gathering of friends from middle school and high school, Aomine is confused at the assumption and never understands the underlying causality.

 

“ _Why would you think he is the one who can cook? He grew up in a household with elder siblings and has been working since he was a child._ ”

 

Indeed, it is true yet most would consciously or unconsciously ignore those facts; the way Aomine neither understands nor even tries to understand some of the most useless and irritating stereotypes greatly entertains Kise.

 

It is similar when during a specific dinner get-together in Tokyo, Seirin's captain comments, apparently much baffled at Kise pulling out Aomine's chair for him at the restaurant,

 

“ _Why would you do that? For him especially?_ ”

 

Kise was quite vexed at the insinuation and felt rather angry but before he could even comment (something overtly impish and only superficially unperturbed), Aomine had answered as indifferent and careless as ever,

 

“ _Why not? He is all princely and courteous and what not all the time so he does that for everyone. Like what, were you expecting me to be the one doing it?_ ”

 

Aomine's blatant disregard for social norms and nonchalance at calling out bullshit are extremely sexy to Kise. To the point that he still does not know how he managed to contain his want and did not attack his boyfriend there and then during that incident for example.

 

There are times though, even Aomine's thick mind and great heart can pick on certain wicked prejudices being thrown at them. At a particular celebrity event in Los Angeles when an utterly shameless entertainment reporter dares to ask "who is the 'bottom' and who is the 'top'", Kise feels the contents of his stomach stir and his hands sweat. His boyfriend though simply dons the most threatening scowl he normally reserves only for the most formidable basketball games, his eyes narrowed in pure disgust, and comments dryly in a chilling low voice,

 

“ _Why the heck are you interested in our bedroom? We are not interested in threesomes if that's what you're getting at._ ”

 

He could not help giggling then and Aomine gave him a nasty side glance...

 

When they returned home after that particular incident, he actually queried his lover,

 

“ _Why no threesomes? I thought Aominecchi would interested in that kind of stuff. Especially with a woman in the mix?_ ”

 

Aomine scoffs and palms his face as if in annoyance but Kise knows him well enough to detect that this is his way of hiding his bashfulness,

 

“ _You really should not need me to reveal how much of a possessive jerk I can be._ ”

 

Reminiscence brings a smile to his face despite the particular article he is scanning through that moment – it is about them and though it is 'supposedly' positive, it is pretty much complete bullshit about some blogger trying to use them as a poster boy for their own ideas about sexuality and romance; there are also borderline racist bits here and there (okay, he is actually just being too nice: they are outright racist), seemingly written out of 'good will' and 'respect for their culture'. He snorts. He is never good at dealing with these kind of things and hates confrontation, so he would rather ignore such media attention. It is not that he is shy or weak, he simply does not have the patience to deal with them but is also too courteous to be impatiently curt with them.

 

Aomine is not though.

 

No, if Aomine read this piece for example, he would furrow his eyebrows, his little wrinkles would almost glow with anger on his forehead like some kind of alien temper signal, then he would boldly declare:

 

“What the fuck?! Fuck these people.”

 

The thought of his boyfriend's unapologetic brashness leads him to chuckle and that's how he is awaken from his pondering and reminiscing to a horrifying smell of something burnt.

 

_Oh the toasts... The toasts!_

 

He tries to grab the pieces of bread that look more like pieces of charcoal by now, which is a very bad idea. The moment his fingers touch the offending food-look-alike, he winces and screams in pain – because it hurts.

 

It fucking hurts.

 

He hurls his aggressors away from himself immediately and sucks on his three fingers that throb.

 

“Don't tell me you tried to cook... It smells like something burnt?”

 

“Umm... Good morning Aominecchi.”

 

The blond's voice is muffled by the fingers in his mouth and seeing his lover's strange state Aomine stops rubbing the sleep off his eyes and instead scrutinises Kise,

 

“Why are you sucking on your fingers? And why did you scream? Another cockroach?”

 

Last night's horror stricken scream due to the sudden appearance of one icky cockroach in the bathroom resurfaces in Kise's memory and he's a little embarrassed, but he cannot help feeling disgusted of such insects. Only thing worse than cockroaches are worms, in his humble opinion.

 

“Nah... I just burnt my finger a little...” he mumbles only half audibly, the fingers still firmly in his mouth.

 

“Oh that's why you screamed and the smell... Wait,” Aomine's eyes widen, “what the heck?!”

 

He stomps over in less than a second and before Kise is aware of what is going on his fingers are already out of his mouth and under running cold water of the tap, hovering above the kitchen sink.

 

Aomine scowls and the little wrinkles on his forehead that Kise finds amusing and endearing are stressed. The blond remembers how once an entertainment blogger had called them “the only imperfection” on the otherwise stunning body of the ace; _quite the contrary_ , Kise thinks, _they are the final touch to his charisma, the figurative cherry on top..._

 

“Why the fuck didn't you put it under water immediately?”

 

“It's nothing severe you know, just reddened a little.”

 

“' _Just reddened a little_ '? Wow. Aren't you supposed to protect your body or something model-san?”

 

Kise smiles, cheeky and ominous of the words to come,

 

“Nah, my overprotective super boyfriend does it instead.”

 

A wink.

 

Aomine gapes and is left thoroughly speechless for a second there, then he gains his composure (or lack of it) back,

 

“Why the heck are you so corny, so smug, and so fucking careless, so early in the morning?!”

 

Kise is about to answer and seeing the places this may go, the slightly taller male starts to change the subject immediately – they are both painfully aware of how weak he is to teasing,

 

“In the first place how could you even”, his wandering gaze comes across the two pieces of charred toast, one lying lonely on the ground, the other on kitchen counter – he sighs, “manage to burn the toast and hurt yourself in the meantime?”

 

“I was just thinking... and reading something.”

 

“You just set the knob to level 5 and that's it. It's that easy. How can you screw that up?!”

 

“Oh! That's why! I kind of used 7.”

 

Aomine rolls his eyes as he moves away to grab the toast from the ground but when Kise also moves he turns for a second, his finger pointing to Kise in warning,

 

“Don't you dare move away your fingers from the water.”

 

“But Aominecchi, my fingers are already cold... How long do I have to keep them under water?”

 

His voice is deliberately unnecessarily wailing and a spectacular pout adorns his face. Aomine is completely unfazed at the sight though,

 

“Till it fucking freezes Kise.”

 

“Aominecchi!”

 

“Three more minutes then you can stop.”

 

“Three?!”

 

“Yes.”

 

Aomine's eyebrows furrow and his distinct “ _I'm not kidding Kise_ ”-scowl is firmly put on. So Kise relents, though his pout is defiant,

 

“Fine.”

 

“What were you so engrossed in thinking or reading that you managed this small scale disaster anyway?”

 

Kise's eyebrows furrow, joining his pout in protesting Aomine's crass nature – not that he truly minds, he never has; he likes this particular diamond of his all rough and unrefined. But mock anger or frustration is his forte and he is sure Aomine has come to be fond of it as well.

 

“That piece”, he points with his eyes to the ipad sitting on the other side of the kitchen counter and Aomine takes the device to look.

 

“What the fuck?!” is his immediate reaction and Kise grins, his mock dissatisfaction and its iconic pout fade away in defeat in mere seconds.

 

“Knew you'd say that.”

 

“Of course I'll say that because it is utter garbage... Why do you even read this shit?! ' _Even though they shy away from public displays of affection due to their reserved Japanese culture_ ' – like what the fuck?! If we are shying away from anything, it's because of the damned paparazzi.”

 

Kise just bursts into laughter in response, mainly because how furiously Aomine read the quote as if uttering some ruinous curse,

 

“Kise!”

 

“I can't help it... Aominecchi... Too funny.”

 

“It's not funny. Like really, _how nice_ , she actually even added that picture from last week. After saying that crap.”

 

“I told you to not kiss me then, you know.”

 

“It was night! The street was deserted! Just how talented in camouflage these freakin' paparazzi are...”

 

Kise giggles again and Aomine sighs,

 

“Whatever. The idiots. Oi! You can take away your hand from water now.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You are the one who put it there, ordered me to keep it there, so you come and remove it from the water.”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Kise!”

 

“Not moving an inch.”

 

"You got to be fucking kidding me."

 

"Not at all."

 

“God! You cheeky little shit.”

 

Aomine stomps towards the blond, his eyebrows aggressively furrowed and an exasperated frown tugged onto his lips. When he reaches though, his grip on the blond's wrist is soft. He removes his lover's hand and turns off the water. He gently grasps the ice cold hand, cradling it between his own for a few seconds before carefully, tenderly drying it with his own t-shirt. Then he focuses his gaze on the previously flushed three fingers that now look like dried prunes.

 

Kise giggles.

 

“What?”

 

“You know how I sometimes make outlandish requests and arrant caprices?”

 

“So you are aware of how goddamn annoying you are?”

 

“Yeah. And then you always grumble about it.”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“Yeah. And then, you always heed to whatever childish request I made anyway. Always.”

 

A graceful pink invades Aomine's cheeks and he leaves Kise's hand – it is already much warmer and confirmed to be unhurt though.

 

There is this particular scowl Aomine dons at times, Kise believes it is equivalent to his own pout of mock dissatisfaction.

 

He adores it.

 

So he giggles upon its appearance on Aomine's face.

 

“God... You're insufferable Kise.”

 

This only leads Kise to cackle, loudly, little tears of cheer forming at the ends of his golden eyes.

 

“You know what? I'm gonna prepare breakfast. So you can cry at how miserably talentless you fucking are. And I won't prepare stupid toasts. Bland American breakfast stuff. I'll prepare proper Japanese breakfast.”

 

Kise laughs harder,

 

“Oh such a nationalist of food. You just wanted to eat Japanese breakfast. Admit it.”

 

“Whatever.” Aomine mutters and moves towards the rice cooker. Kise stirs to help but Aomine's quick to stop him,

 

“You are _not_ helping. You're sitting there at the table like a good boy.”

 

“I am not your dog Aominecchi.” Kise mumbles, his perfect pout back on his face in all its glory, nevertheless, he moves to the table obediently.

 

“Thank God! You'd be one of those crazy energetic dogs. It'd suck.”

 

Kise furrows his eyebrows and stifles a giggle. For he probably would be, indeed.

 

Aomine starts humming the song he himself was just a little while ago. It must be because they sang it the other night when he dragged his unsociable boyfriend to karaoke with a few friends.

 

He smiles.

 

Then he realises...

 

Just how much he loves this man. Just how greatly assuring, peaceful, loving it is to watch this man do even the most mundane things possible. Just how content and joyful he feels simply watching his back as he prepares breakfast, for example.

 

Kise's fingertips still remember the way Aomine's peculiar little wrinkles felt just an hour ago – they still remember despite being consecutively burnt and frozen.

 

A memory from a couple of years ago appears amongst his wandering thoughts.

 

It was when they had first started, only five or six months after they had finally and officially became an 'item'. A visit from Momoi ended up with them binge-watching the Godfather trilogy and by the time the last credits rolled, Aomine was soundly asleep on his lap, courtesy of the team's heavy training schedule from earlier that day.

 

He caressed his lover's cheek, his fingers moving across the smooth skin, arriving to the little wrinkles on his forehead which he traced in amused silence.

 

“ _Kise, what do you love about him?_ ”

 

Momoi's voice held such gravitas that Kise had never heard before, when he lifted his gaze to her, he realised how serious her stare was, inquisitive and piercing. The endearing nickname distinctively lost in the question, even if not intentionally...

 

He was surprised.

 

Perhaps he should not have been.

 

She was so close to him, so near his heart, and he was so close to her, so near her heart – even if they had shared blood, they couldn't possibly be any closer. They were truthfully siblings, except on paper.

 

Kise smiled in understanding and calmly answered,

 

“ _All of him._ ”

 

Momoi raised a suspicious brow,

 

“ _Really? He has quite nasty aspects you know._ ”

 

“ _Yes,_ ” Kise smiled further as his gaze shifted to the sleeping face of his boyfriend, “ _and honestly, I am not much fond of them intrinsically and I do reprimand him now and then. But they are part of him. Good things and bad things, nice things and nasty things, brilliant achievements and unbelievable defeats. They make him, him. Any less or more, he would not be himself – he would be somebody else. But you see, I love 'him'. I love him and him alone. So I love all of him._ ”

 

A silence ensued then and just before he was about to start worrying whether he had upset his dear friend, Momoi reached and ruffled his hair,

 

“ _It gives me ease... That he's with Ki-chan._ ”

 

“Oi! Kise!”

 

The blond blinks and realises his boyfriend staring at him, puzzled; their faces are unexpectedly close, only a few inches apart.

 

He blushes.

 

It has been years since they have been together yet he can still blush like this at sudden proximity.

 

_God! The audacity of love!_

 

“Jeez, what the heck are you daydreaming about? Eat your food.”

 

As his boyfriend settles on the chair across him, Kise realises the breakfast carefully laid out in front of him on the table.

 

It is simple.

 

He is sure he'll savour it heartily like a legendary feast.

 

Before he starts though, he mumbles,

 

“You...”

 

“Mm huh?” Aomine asks absent-mindedly as he hungrily chews on his food.

 

“I was daydreaming about _you_.”

 

Aomine chokes momentarily, Kise giggles and offers a cup of tea. After a few drops of the blessed liquid, Aomine mutters, before returning back to eating,

 

“Goddamn corny and smug...”

 

 


End file.
